To live an artful life is not an easy one, though it certainly is full. Full of other people's condescension and ignorance, as I unfortunately learnt, yet again today, in the work place.
My shiny new black brogues with their sexy toes are really the only reason I get up on my work day mornings. I slip into them and I feel a million dollars, it doesn't matter that I will be opening doors and directing people to the toilet whilst wearing them - they almost make it worth it, and dare I say, make me feel a million dollars. However, as a customer revealed to be today, I really am not worth a million dollars, nor is the 5 star service that I provide for her whilst she shops. For the purposes of this entry, let's dignify the customer with a name.. bitch face.
Ironically today, I embarked on a new approach to my job, diligence and enthusiasm. My rationale was that perhaps time would fly by, with the more eye contact I made, the more doors I opened and the more excitedly I talked about the pansies in the flower show. All was going surprisingly well when I smiled at an approaching customer who was exiting the store. I made my way ahead of her to the heavy doors (which in retrospect I should have done her a favour and made open for herself, her tuck shop arms needed it). Standing with the door open she looked at me with a narrowed brow and shaking head,
"You certainly have THE most boring job" she exclaimed.
Exhausted by this comment yet again, I responded with a disconcerting smile:
"Yes madam, but I really don't need you to tell me that".
To which bitch face responded:
"You really ought to aspire for something better than standing at the front of a shop and opening doors, i mean really ! "
(Yes, I thought to myself, I should busy myself with consumerism and buy myself success and happiness, just like you, you certainly behave the better for it - judging everyone else whilst sporting a hideous shade of beige lipstick).
But instead I responded: ' What makes you think you know anything about my aspirations outside of working here at this store ?'
'Yes.. I guess I don't', she replied with a sigh, ' but the look of you is awfully sad', she said, as she flounced out of the store.
I stood perplexed. I was just trying to perform the David Jones 5 star service. The 6th star is obviously that the customer must out perform you and not only make you do your job but pity you for it too.
If only she knew the beauty and wonder, trials and passionate tribulations, ideas and unquantifiable fortune that comes from my artful life and those I share it with. I need not aspire for it, because with my heart open, it comes to me. Unfortunately for bitch face she will never know this.
As I completed my final lap in the pool tonight, having watched the water turn from aqua to turquoise to an iridescent green in the changing light of dusk and nightfall. I felt like I had perfected a certain stroke, I knew too that I had surrendered something. Just As I must diligently push through the water and consciously mind my style, I must surrender my body and thoughts and let the water take me. A simultaneous giving and receiving, a grace.
